Life in times of Peace
by artanisofavalon
Summary: Delving deeper into the life of Islanzadi beginning from the moment her first daughter was born. Written in the Elf queen's point of view. Read and review. Please.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to my latest Inheritance based story; I hope you enjoy it. As to what it is about, I shall leave you to read and discover for yourselves. 

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, nor do I intend to make financial gain from this fan fiction; it is merely for pleasure.

"Speech" 

_Thought_

X

"Push! Islanzadí, you must push!"

My hair was sweat-soaked and sticking to my forehead, tears were streaming down my face and an excruciating pain was burning between my legs, but push I did. A scream tore itself from my throat as I, queen Islanzadí of Du Weldenvarden, felt the head of my babe leave my body accompanied by a river of ruby red blood. 

Contractions knifed through my frightened form and I thought of my husband, who was even now thundering to the city to be at my side.

The midwife's white sleeves were blood-stained and rolled up to her elbows, and her hair was coming loose from its bun as she held my spasming legs apart to aid my child in its journey into the world outside of my belly. She looked up into my eyes, her lips arching into a smile of support and reassurance, and used the cool cloth her apprentice had handed her to dab at my heated brow, her helper taking her place at the foot of the bed in between my legs. "It is almost over, Islanzadí, it is almost done. I need you to be brave, my friend. Push, the babe is ready to be born."

I gasped in great gulps of air and laid my pain stricken gaze onto the midwife, who was also my closest friend, and attempted to form an answer to her words. "Nilían, please do not leave me. It hurts so much," I tensed with a cry as I felt a sharp pain in my back and in the lower section of my swollen stomach. "Is my child safe?" I whispered. _Please let my babe be in good health. Please_.

Nilían began to massage my stomach to help with the shudders that wracked my frame. To use magic in such a situation would be dangerous and foolish; the risk that the mother or the unborn babe would harmed was too great. "Your child is in the best of hands, my dear. You need not fear the babe's safety. I shall not allow anything ill to happen to either of you," Nilían answered, her pale eyes full of compassion, understanding full well what the queen of the realm was experiencing, having birthed two sons herself.

Her words did not ease the pain, nor did her ministrations, but they brought me heart. The dirtied linen sheets of my bed clutched tightly in my hands, I clenched my teeth and pushed with all of my might. One final contraction gripped at my insides, and then I heard the terrified shriek of my newly-born child, eager to reach its place at my breast. The pain abruptly ceased, reduced to a dull ache at my core.

I dissolved into tears of joy, hardly being able to believe that I had birthed my baby, and that all had gone well. Nilían was grinning triumphantly to her apprentice and me as she carefully bathed and swaddled my infant, and she smoothed her hand over the child's head as she laid it gently into my arms. She kissed my forehead and stroked my hair proudly. "You have done it, Islanzadí! You have birthed a beautiful baby girl."

"A girl? I have a baby girl?" I asked, overcome with happiness at the prospect of watching a little girl flourish into a lovely flower of womanhood. _My little girl,_ I corrected the thought as it passed through my mind. _**My** little girl_.

I gazed at my beautiful baby's face, seeing her father's forest green eyes, and a black thatch of hair identical to my own. Her tiny features were delicate, and her eyes had a feline quality about their shape. The baby's ears were tapered to a point; such was the renowned characteristic of our graceful race.

"What shall you name her, my Lady?" Nilían's apprentice, Ëarelda, inquired, her eyes sparkling as she eyed my baby with wonder. Her question pulled me from my wandering thoughts.

"I could never name her unless Evandar were here to witness it, Ëarelda," I answered, the situation still seeming unreal to me.

Ëarelda blushed. "Forgive me, your Majesty."

I smiled, closing my eyes contentedly as I felt my baby suckle at my breast; an unusual sensation. "There is nothing to forgive, Ëarelda."

The soft spoken Elf maiden opened her mouth to reply when the door to the royal chamber was thrown open and a flushed Evandar rushed into the room, his eyes wide. His eyes widened even further when he caught sight of me lying on our bed, looking a mess, with our child held safely at my bosom. I offered him a tired grin.

Nilían spoke as he stood before me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to speak. "I shall leave you alone to welcome your child into the world, your Majesties." She turned to me. "My queen, I shall attend to you as soon as my Lord Evandar has left to ready himself for the celebrations. I would that you attempt to rest if you can."

The two healers curtseyed, and hurried from the room.

A fresh flow of tears accumulated within my dark eyes. "We have a girl, my love. A blessed baby girl."

Evandar stood, shocked, before his face broke out into a grin and he began to laugh out loud in his jubilation. He gathered both the child and I into his arms and kissed me soundly on the lips, his calloused hand sinking into my hair. "Oh, my love, never in my life have I been so happy," he said, smiling at me as he withdrew from the kiss. "What shall we name her, Islanzadí?"

I looked into his eyes, the deep green pools of wisdom that had held me prisoner since our first meeting.

"Arya," I said. "Her name is Arya."

"Arya," he said, the name melodic on his lips. "A beautiful name, my love. Well done."

X

Arya lay asleep in her carved cot, her fine boned hand clenched lightly beside her porcelain cheek as she dreamed.

My eyes flicked over to where she slept for the umpteenth time and I sighed in happiness, something I had been doing quite a lot since Arya's birth a few hours before. Nilían had come back to our room, and had sternly ushered Evandar from the scented chamber, declaring that 'the poor woman' had been through enough without an audience leering over 'her' every move. He had argued heatedly, protesting that he was the king and my husband, but to no avail, as Nilían had politely asked him to leave countless times before and had finally lost patience.

I chuckled as I reminisced the amusing scene.

Nilían left her place in my closet amidst my clothing items and sat down beside me on the bed, a rich blue gown tucked into the crook of her arm.

"Come," she bade me, laying her soft white hand onto my arm. "Let us wash the blood and filth from your person, Islanzadí."

At my nod of consent, Nilían led me into the bath chamber that adjoined to the royal suites and relieved me of my stained yellow gown, dropping it into the laundry basket and setting the fine blue ceremonial dress onto a worked bench. She ran a bath for me and poured in a decent measure of sandalwood oil to mask the repulsive scent of blood before she helped me slide into the deep tub of warm water.

Although the various healing spells had eased a significant amount of the pain in my centre, the slight ache from the stretched muscles of my womanhood remained; and I had now received my moonbloods after a rather lengthy reprieve of them.

Nilían handed me fragrant soap with which to cleanse my damp hair. "I do not know how to thank you, Nilían," I said to her. "You have done so much for me; and for my daughter. If there is anything that Evandar or I could do to repay you, please do not hesitate to inform us of it."

Turning from where she stood pulling her hair back into its original state, Nilían flashed the mischievous that I recognized from our childhood. "With all due respect, Islanzadí, I must say that after the scene with my Lord, awarding me for my service would be the last thing on king Evandar's mind."

Despite the jest, I remained serious. "Nilían, I am in earnest."

Her humourous demeanor sobered considerably. "There is naught that you can do to please me, save to heal. Heal and find joy in Arya and in motherhood."

"Then it shall be as you wish, for I know your words to be wise," I said, my voice full of feeling, the wild emotions that I had become to used to as part of my pregnancy threatening to lead me to tears of gratitude.

My dearest friend smiled at me. "I am glad. But, I regret to say that I must leave you unattended for now. There are a few matters that I need to attend to. If you require anything, anything at all, contact me and I shall be here beside you before you can draw breath."

"I shall," I assured her, cheered by her jovial attitude.

With a kiss to my cheek, Nilían exited the room, leaving me to my own thoughts. I lingered in the water, washing myself, and only left the steaming tub when I felt clean all over.

My hands soothed my exhausted abdominal muscles as I thoroughly towel dried my hair and body. The comb that Nilían had left on the table below the sink was quickly drawn through my hair, and I moved to stand before the mirror to scrutinize my form after childbirth.

Everything about me had altered in the past months of maternity. My cheeks were rounder; my breasts fuller and more tender than ever before in my life; my stomach, now deflated, was still rotund; my hips far more curved. I felt different, but it was not in a negative way.

My thoughts never strayed far from my daughter, and when I walked it was though I did so in an alternate universe where everything was flawless.

Still seeing myself with Arya in my arms as I threaded my way through the forest, I exhaled in exhaustion and donned my queenly clothing and hand sewn slippers; no spell was cast to dry my hair. I was still far too weak for even the simplest of magic use.

Walking into my bedchamber, I spied a maidservant laying down fresh linen sheets for my bed. She curtseyed when she saw me, as propriety demanded.

The maidservant eyed my ebony tendrils, still wet from my bath.

"My Lady Islanzadí," she began politely, "allow me to fix your hair."

"Of course," I answered, my attention on Arya's slumbering form at the far side of the room. I itched to walk over to her side.

But, I was not allowed the opportunity to do so. The maid sat me down at the vanity and pulled the hair that fell freely over my shoulders behind my back and dried it with a few quick words in the Ancient Language. She began to weave ivory ribbons and sprigs of fresh flower into my black as night tresses, before she lowered the undeniable symbol of queenship, my gleaming silver circlet, onto my brow.

I fidgeted impatiently, wishing for a wreath of holly or laurel with which to use for a crown.

The maid completed her task of taming my hair with a satisfied nod of her head. "There, my Lady. You look stunning."

"Thank you."

She curtseyed for the second time and left my presence without another word. Relief washed over me, and I rushed to Arya's cot.

How long I spent stroking her cheek and kissing her lovely hands I do not know, but it seemed an incredibly short amount of time before Evandar entered our suites once again, now dressed in a fine tunic of dark blue to match my own gown and clean black leggings.

"The time has arrived for the naming ceremony, Islanzadí," he said, peering at the bundle in my arms fondly.

"I know," I answered.

"You both look beautiful," he added, reaching for my hand.

My only reply to his words was a curve to my lips as the three of us left to present Du Weldenvarden's newest Princess to the people of Ellesméra.

X

Well, that is all for now. Please tell me your opinion on the story; if you like it, hated it, whatever it may be. Thanks for reading this, and I hope you enjoy the rest of this fan fiction.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two, ready for you to enjoy. Have fun, oh lovers of Eragon.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

To the tale!

X

The room was now spotless; clean linen and sheets had been laid on the bed and the entire chamber was infused with the fragrance of the lavender that burned at the hearth. I sipped sweet wine from the chalice that Evandar had poured for me, and I watched him as he stoked the fire, his warrior braids spilling over his shoulders as he leaned forward.

My husband stood, and smiled as he turned to me. "I am so glad to have returned home, my love," he said as he walked to where I reclined, and slid behind me on the bed.

Exhaling deeply, I laid my head against his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. The sound calmed me, and a great weariness washed over me, causing my eyelids to become unnaturally heavy.

"So am I…so am I, my dearest husband," I answered his words, and my reply was as true as the waters that flowed through our enchanted land.

I felt him run his hands over my neck and shoulders, and yawned contentedly.

After losing myself in his comforting ministrations, I forced my eyes open with unusual difficulty, and twisted in his lap, handing him the chalice of richly flavoured wine that I held. "Drink, Evandar. I know you to be a weary as I."

"I would welcome a drink, Islanzadí, thank you." My husband took a long swallow of the spiced alcohol, and set the emptied goblet on the bedside table with a sharp

"How fare you, wife? I know not the pains of childbirth, but I could hear your discomfort when I arrived home. So, tell me, are you well?" He inquired, caressing my still rounded belly with lazy circles from his fingertips.

My lips curled in humour. "Aside from a few aches and pains here and there, Evandar, I am in the best of spirits."

"That is enlightening news, beautiful one," he answered with his most favoured name for me, aside from 'my love'. Evandar pressed a kiss to the delicate area where my neck joined my shoulder. I tingled with pleasure at the gesture.

Earlier that evening, he and I had greeted our people and had introduced our daughter, and the new heir to the Elven throne, to the people of our capital city. The entire night had been filled with merriment and feasting, with every elf in sight welcoming the arrival of Arya into our realm and our close friends clasping arms with Evandar with words of encouragement and bestowing kisses and embraces upon me.

It had been wonderful. The smile had not wavered off of my husband's sensuous mouth even once, and I was sure that I had not laughed so gaily in the duration of my existence.

Even now, the celebrations had not ceased. Pretty music drifted into the room from the opened windows, brushing the insides of our ears like down feathers.

A warm kiss to the side of my throat lifted me from my musings pleasantly.

I chuckled. "Are you not tired, Evandar? You cannot tell me that riding here all of the way from Cerís has not left you lacking in…enthusiasm."

He answered my laugh with a masculine rumble of his own. "Tired of you, my love? Never!" To emphasize his point he pressed me flush against himself and buried his nose into my loose hair, growling animatedly.

Giggling, I pulled myself free of his grasp, and playfully chastised him. "Evandar, contain yourself! You are not the one who has just given birth."

He turned his greens orbs to my face and I all but melted. I never could hold my own against his beautiful eyes. It was irritating.

"Do not look at me like that, Evandar!" I laughed, and he grinned.

"How am I looking at you, Islanzadí?"

"As though you do not take me seriously."

"I take you very seriously. But, I have been away for months, my love. Would you deny me the chance to hold you again?" Although he had a mischievous glint in his wide eyes, his tone of voice was completely sober.

"It is not the question of denying you, my love. I am tired, and my body has not healed itself properly yet. Please understand," I said, aching for him despite the slights pains in my back and in between my thighs.

He merely smiled. "Of course I understand."

I sighed and burrowed back into his arms, where I felt as though not even Galbatorix and his evil armies could touch me.

"How is Arya? Ëarelda told me that she is sleeping," Evandar inquired, peering over at the cot in the corner of our chamber, where my tiny daughter lay suckling her fingers in her slumber.

"She is. She was exhausted from all of the commotion and the noise. I fed her and laid her to sleep just before you entered," I answered, tugging the sleeve of my forest green night dress into place, my gaze directed at the skillfully designed crib; a gift from Evandar's father. My husband's mother had unfortunately passed away years before; something incredibly sad, for she had been dear to me ever since I had been a young girl.

My eyes stung, and I pushed away the maudlin thoughts, shaking my head to clear it. Oh, Alagaësia, I was tired!

"My love," I said. "The best for you and I to do at this moment is sleep. I know that I am ready to drop to the floor in exhaustion."

"A capital idea, Islanzadí," Evandar agreed, kissing me deeply a final time before he extinguished the flameless lanterns with a single word.

I dug my way under the covers, and felt Evandar's strong arm curl around my waist, bringing my body closer to his as we fell into a state of utter calm and reverence.

Dreaming of summer and of Elven flowers, I experienced the most soothing rest period that I had received in months.

X

An awed gurgle interrupted my rest, and the haze that had settled over my eyes while I slept cleared as I regained complete consciousness. I did not move, but merely watched as Evandar came into view with Arya held safely in his arms as he sang to her.

The song was one that was familiar. It was of a maiden who had her entire life lived by the sea, and who was one day wooed by a noble warrior who became enchanted by her beauty and grace. It sang of how he, Bélion, was called away to battle, leaving Aillá to yearn for the day he returned and the two lovers would be reunited once more. He never came back to her, having been killed at war, and Aillá became so engulfed in her grief that she threw herself from a cliff into the merciless ocean that she had loved as fervently as her mate.

The ballad was a melancholy one, and one that Evandar treasured. That he would sing it to her of all the songs he had known touched me deeply.

I watched on, seeing my husband rock our child gently back and forth in his arms, and how he smiled at her as she reached for his straight nose with her little hand.

A warm feeling spreading throughout my breast at the scene, I drifted back into my slumber, happy.

X

Morning came, casting its golden light onto our well-rested forms. The twittering of birds intermingled with the sound of a set of reed pipes, forming a sweet melody. I breathed in the clean air, and stretched my arms above my head to remove any kinks that I might have acquired during the night.

Yawning, and tucking a strand of hair behind my tipped ear, I turned to see Evandar with his arm thrown over his bare chest and his hair tousled childishly. I could not stifle a giggle; the Elf looked adorable.

I left our bed, and drew on my satin robe, walking over to the table where a pitcher of water and a glass lay. Parched, I drank my fill of the cool liquid and moved to Arya's cot. Today would her first full day to enjoy in Du Weldenvarden, and I hoped to take her for a picnic with Evandar and I, and show her the majesty of her new home.

She was wide awake, I discovered, and making a series of sounds that instinctively informed me that she was hungry. I scooped her soft body into my arms and seated myself on the rocking chair by the fire, opening the small buttons on my night dress to bare my chest. Arya immediately sought out my breast, and began to suckle, stopping ever so often to swallow with a light exhaling sound that to my ears sounded beautiful.

Soft strands of ebony hair framed her rosy face as she drank with a will, and I ran my long fingers through them, marveling at their texture. When Arya had satiated her hunger, I removed my teat from her mouth and wiped both her lips and my flesh with a damp wad of cloth and rearranged my clothing to its usual state of immaculacy.

"What do you say to a day in the forest, my darling?" I crooned quietly to her. "Just you, your father and I. Would you like that?" I whispered, delicately pressing the tip of my finger to her nose.

She gurgled and looked up at me while she kicked her legs. "Yes? Then let us get you properly washed, my little flower," I said, placing her back in her crib while I called for a maid to bring in a tub of warm water, gentle soap and towels.

"Would you and my Lord prefer to break your fast in you chambers, my Lady?" The maid, a slim, fair haired elf asked.

"Yes, that would be delightful. And have a messenger inform Nilían that I shall not be able to be present at the infirmary today, thank you," I said, feeling slightly guilty at breaking my word to Nilían.

"Yes, my Lady Islanzadí," the maid politely replied, curtseying and hurrying off to the servant's quarters.

Soon, the maid returned with a large tray of food and a pitcher of lukewarm water which she poured into the tub. She left as hastily as she had arrived, with only a few courteous words to her Queen.

Dipping my fingers in the bath water to test it, I found it to be satisfactory and removed Arya's miniature gown and stockings with careful hands.

She was bathed with the utmost care, although I made sure to be thorough.

It was when I was drying the water from her hair when I sensed Evandar's presence behind me. He laid his large hands on my shoulders.

"How are my two most beloved ladies this fine morn?"

"They are most comfortable, my dear," I said.

"Exactly what I wished to hear," my husband replied, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"What do you say to a day to ourselves, my love? I was thinking that perhaps we might be able to steal away from Tialdarí Hall; just for today," I asked, hoping that he would not be occupied.

"That sounds wonderful. I am sure the ambassadors and councilors would not begrudge me a day away from the work desk to be with my wife and daughter," he answered, rubbing my stomach as had become his habit.

I tied the last ribbon on Arya's pale blue tunic and laced up her shoes. Evandar had abandoned his post at my waist and was now reaching for Arya. He held her securely against his chest, and she nestled herself comfortably at her new place. I could already see that she would love him greatly as she grew, and that her affectionate feelings towards her father would be returned enthusiastically by Evandar.

Such a lovely thought.

"Shall we eat? I had the maid bring breakfast to our chamber today."

Acquiescing, Evandar, Arya and I sat ourselves at the table in the dining room and feasted on an expertly prepared breakfast of oat porridge, fruit, hazelnut butter, fresh white bread, raspberry jelly and tea; of course, Arya merely reclined on my lap as Evandar and I engaged her with loving caresses and amusing sounds.

The meal concluded, and Arya having been returned to her bed, Evandar and I parted to dress for a day that would be spent in the woods, amidst the trees we Elves loved so dearly.

I chose to wear an old and slightly large tunic of dark purple, and a pair of black leggings with my cloth boots. I brushed my hair, plaiting it to hang in a simple braid down my back and once again asked a servant for a basket of food and drink to be brought to the royal suites.

I was sorting through said basket when my husband emerged, clad in a russet tunic and brown leggings, and grinned when he saw my attire.

"Now there is a sight for sore eyes," he remarked.

Shaking my head, I reflected my husband's good humour. "Shall we leave now? There is no reason to remain."

"Why not?"

We headed out of the chamber, and left Tialdarí Hall with polite nods to the Elves we encountered.

The sun shone brightly throughout Ellesméra, and the jubilant sounds of the running river water promised an eventful day.

However, I was sure it would a day that I would never forget.

X

Hurrah! The second chapter completed! Enjoy, fanfctioneers!

-Artanisofavalon.


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